


I Fix Mine Eye on Thine

by hiddenlongings



Series: Dresden AU Series [6]
Category: Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlongings/pseuds/hiddenlongings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulgaze between John and Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: I Fix Mine Eye On Thine

Rating: Teen

Warning: brief implication of child rape, references to death by poisoning.

Relationships: Harry Dresden/John Marcone

Characters: Harry Dresden, John Marcone

Summary: Marcone's side of a soulgaze.

Story set immediately after Surrender in my Dresden AU series 'Different Lives'

A/N: Title taken from a John Donne poem called 'Witchcraft by a Picture'.

I fix mine eye on thine, and there

Pity my picture burning in thy eye,

My picture drowned in a transparent tear,

When I look lower I espy;

Hadst thou the wicked skill

By pictures made and marred, to kill,

How many ways mightst thou perform thy will?

But now I have drunk thy sweet salt tears,

And though thou pour more I'll depart;

My picture vanished, vanish fears,

That I can be endangered by that art;

Though thou retain of me

One picture more, yet that will be,

Being in thine own heart, from all malice free.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

Marcone had learned quickly to keep most of his high tech toys away from his lover. The loss of his beloved Blackberry still stung.

So when Dresden infrequently came to his home, Marcone turned off laptops and locked up his cell phone in a distant corner of the house.

Hendricks would discreetly knock if an important call came through for him, and it had better be damn important if somebody was going to interrupt one of his rare work free evenings.

Sometimes John thought that Harry had pulled the Blackberry caper on purpose. So that he could keep John's attention devoted solely to him.

Technology only really went ballistic when Harry lost control of his magic or when he purposefully sent it flying towards the delicate gadgets.

Marcone pulled away from the idea, even if it was true it didn't really matter he liked these electricity free evenings too much to complain.

Curled up in his lover's lanky arms and staring into the crackling fireplace that he knew was a cliché but loved anyway, John let his mind relax and drift over whatever it pleased.

Watching the flame with its heat and grasping fiery fingers pulling in oxygen and apple wood Marcone remembered the representation of Harry's soul that he had fallen into during their soul gaze.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

His first awareness had been of immense heat that crawled over his not-flesh in greedy waves as it tried to consume him.

When he opened his not-eyes he saw the flames, which surrounded him, it snapped playfully at his not-feet and snuggled into his not-arms.

No matter where John looked all he could see at first was flame; but as he looked closer he could see the burnt husks of things that the flames had encompassed.

John looked down at his not-torso. His clothes weren't even singed.

The flames seemed to notice his invulnerability and wound around him even tighter. John rocked back on his not-heels as Harry's emotions sank into him.

Overwhelming loneliness nearly brought him to his knees, and the fire shivered mournfully and tried to extract itself from him.

"Stay." Murmured John.

He stroked his fingers through the flame, trying to pull Harry's soul back towards himself.

Hesitantly the flame began cover Marcone's not-body again and slowly Marcone could feel Harry begin to release his emotions into him again.

The flame filled some dark empty space inside of his mind that John hadn't been aware ever existed before this moment.

Joy replaced the loneliness that had been Harry's primary emotion and John knew with a sudden burst of insight that however sweet Harry might have been in their lovemaking moments before. However much Harry might have given of himself, the man had still believed himself to be a passing fancy. That John would move on after he had gotten what he wanted from Harry, namely sex and secrets.

Even John's instigation of the soulgaze and his gentleness during sex had been, from Harry's perspective at least, been trickery.

John could also feel Harry's willingness to do whatever he could to get any sort of gentle human contact no matter how false the ulterior motive might be.

John's grip on the flame tightened and he hoped desperately that Harry was seeing as deeply into his soul as he was seeing into Harry's. That Harry would see just how much John cared about him, both as a business partner and as a lover.

As John's not-eyes swept the darkness that now surrounded him, since the entirety of the flame seemed to have wound itself around him, he admitted to curiosity, but it was curiosity without malice.

The darkness became an enclosed space, the only light coming from the fire though it had dimmed to a small ember as though withdrawing within itself.

Silent images suddenly appeared on the wall in front of John, too quickly for John to get more than a glimpse of each scene.

A tall man with a shadowed face tossed a giggling boy into the air and holding the toddler close pulled coins from behind his ears.

Then a new man, tall and corpulent, flung baseballs at a slightly older version of the boy, struck the boy across the face, beat the boy with a riding crop, and a final image of the man zipping up his trousers with a look of satiated malice on his face.

The boys face was made a stone in all of these though John thought he could see the hatred on the young Harry's face grow more and more malevolent as the images progressed.

Then a jerk of the film made the boy a teenager and the man (older now) was writhing at his feet as the poison took effect.

The images were quicker after that.

A skull whose eyes lit from within made Harry laugh with joy for the first time since his father gave him brief and effervescent flight.

A beautiful silver-eyed man hugged a twenty-something Harry joyfully. They were comparing identical necklaces.

Then the image froze on a picture of John, Marcone recognized the outfit that he had worn on the day that they had first officially met in the warehouse, as though that was the last life-defining moment in Harry's life.

But as the fire of Harry's soul became more and more entrenched inside of John's not-body the image began to shift and blur until Marcone saw the image resolve into their entwined bodies as they were in that moment.

The sound of footsteps brought Marcone around in a whirl.

A Harry who was not John's Harry looked at him from a fair distance away.

This Harry lacked the frozen expression that John's Harry used to terrify the people around him to good effect.

He was watching John openly with no hidden fear and no misdirected anger.

His clothing was rougher than John was used to seeing, with a ragged pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt.

John had to hide his amusement though he couldn't fight off a smile at the sight of the ever-present leather trench coat whipping around his body protectively.

"Hello John." The voice was the same liquid smoke that had always enthralled John, but this Harry's voice was less refined, with a rough accent that did interesting things to John's spine.

Marcone raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Since I seem to be holding Harry's soul, I have to wonder what you are supposed to represent."

The man smiled suddenly drawing attention to his clean-shaven face.

"I'm Harry's subconscious,"

A brilliant smile that John had never seen on Harry's actual face stretched across Harry's subconscious.

It made John's chest ache with longing to see that smile everyday.

"He likes to listen to me a lot of the time, but I had to yell pretty loud for him to give in and trust you." Harry's head cocked to the right. "You can't stay much longer, but I need you to listen to me and don't argue."

John nodded.

"Here's the thing, at this point I'm going to outlive you by a couple of hundred years."

John's eyes widened but he managed to keep his mouth shut.

"As you can imagine I don't like the idea a whole lot. But I think between the two of you that can be changed. Problem is my conscious self refuses to listen so I need you to convince him."

"Why would he listen to me, when he won't listen to you?"

"He thinks you're smarter than he is for one thing."

"A delusion that you do not have I gather?"

"Damn right! I figure between the two of you your lifetime could be extended and you could expand the territory and finally deal with the White Council. Which you are going to have to find about from Harry; we don't have the time."

John felt himself start to drift back towards his own body.

"Oh!" Harry's voice exclaimed, "Swallow some of the fire, trust me it'll help!"

John would wonder later why he hadn't questioned Harry's subconscious but he quickly brought a bright spark of Harry's soul to his lips and swallowed it down.

When Marcone fell back into his own body he could still feel that spark as it wriggled and spread throughout his entire body in progressive waves of warmth.

Harry's eyes were wide as he came back into his own body and he shuddered deeply and clasped John tightly to his chest.

John wondered what Harry had seen; hopefully Harry would be willing to tell him later.

Right now though was a time for silence.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

Marcone sighed quietly and burrowed deeply into his lovers side. The expansion of their territory had spread to most of North America and John had no doubt that they'd gather the last hold outs into their grasp before too much longer.

If it took a little longer what of it, they had a very long future to look forward to.


	2. Harry's Side of the Soulgaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry looks into Marcone's soul.

Title: I Fix Mine Eye On Thine (2/2)

Rating: Teen

Warning: murderous thoughts, insinuations of child rape, low self-esteem issues, including thoughts of suicide, and some brief dub-con.

Relationships: Harry Dresden/John Marcone

Characters: Harry Dresden, John Marcone

Summary: Dresden's side of a soulgaze.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

His uncle had forced the last soulgaze that Harry had participated in on him when he was twelve. The experience had ensured that no matter how dark Harry's own soul might be he was a stickler for leaving other people's souls alone. Some things were nobodies business no matter the provocation.

When he had pulled free from Morningway's soul Harry had been violently ill. Justin on the other hand had looked at his ward with a gleam of delight in his eyes. Even then Harry had known what avarice looked like even if he didn't know the correct word.

Whatever Justin had seen, and Harry had a good idea about that he was generally on speaking terms with his subconscious even at twelve, it made Morningway ramp up the intensity of Harry's training.

What Harry had seen in the soulgaze had sparked the beginnings of an idea that even then he knew would lead to Morningway's death. No one with a soul like sticky black tar deserved to be given the gift of breath for any longer than absolutely necessary. Justin's continued existence was past due and Harry would come to collect eventually.

Though there had been days when Harry had been ready and willing to give up his own breath if only to escape the clutches of a man who had been ready and willing to do anything necessary to advance himself in society including offering his young nephew as incentive in certain business deals.

The only reason that these transactions hadn't been permanently debilitating was because of a wizards healing ability and once he became old enough Harry's innate talent at blowing up assholes into messy piles of goo.

Morningway never made that mistake again after the first of his very important clients ceased to exist after he had offered up his nephew on a silver platter so to speak.

Marcone's soul lacked the grease and slime so prevalent in Justin's, which allowed a tension filled portion of Harry's mind to finally relax. He hadn't misjudged Marcone, hadn't placed trust in a man that would hurt him for no reason. Though that still left behind the doubts that Harry had about what John was willing to do if he felt the situation called for it.

Harry knew that he was just a part-time fuck with delusions of epic romance, nobody in their right mind would want to be trapped with him for the rest of forever.

But Harry was hopeful that the knowledge he possessed of the supernatural world was enough to keep him at Marcone's side for at least a little while.

Harry blinked as his eyesight cleared and he caught his first good look at the metaphorical representation of John's soul.

He was never quite sure what it meant that in his experience with Justin's soul and the soulgazes that had been documented in the darker subsections of Morningway manor, that there were always three parts of the soulgaze.

A person looking into another person's soul inevitably found themselves somewhere, although whether it was inside of the soul of the person or just inside what that soul meant to the person watching it was an unknown.

Then the gazer would meet the living incarnation of the person's soul; and then they would meet the person's subconscious, which generally stuck to human form unless the person was truly, mesmerizingly, bat shit crazy.

Morningway's subconscious had been some sort of cross between a Roman god and a pretentiously self-indulgent toddler.

He had been expecting a broad cityscape not…this.

The representation of John's soul was a dimly lit forest.

Cool and tranquil with a network of thickly leaved branches blotting out the sun. The only light coming from the occasional clearing where rays of sunlight hit the ground in a small puddle of radiance.

The tiger was lounging in one of these patches, its' old money green eyes watching him from behind lids lowered to half-mast.

Harry hesitantly sidled closer to the big cat, watching it carefully for its reaction to his presence.

The woods were silent, no birds sang, no wind shuffled verdant leaves, and the tiger watched his approach with the sanguine (in both senses of the word) calm that John showed to the world.

He was a resting predator waiting for its' preys first move.

When Harry was finally free of the underbrush that had slowed his journey and he had edged into the clearing, confident that his rare show of nerves would stay out of John's conscious mind for the most part.

When his duster joined him in the clearing as it slid free of the brambles that caressed more than bit, the tiger slid to its' feet and paced towards Harry on dish plate sized feet.

Harry fell to his knees in front of John and held out trembling hands beseechingly. Whatever else Justin had managed to stamp out of him, Harry still tried to grasp and keep close the people he loved.

No matter how often his outstretched hands had been slapped away or ignored he still tried, and this time he was rewarded.

The tiger dipped his head and shoved it into Harry's right hand a telling glance pulled the left into the thick ruff of fur around his neck.

Harry's hands sank into the fluff, fingers tracing stripes, memorizing them.

A low grumble erupted from the cat's throat and Harry cringed backwards, face settling into stone as he accepted the rejection.

The tiger nearly rolled his eyes in exasperation and pounced, tumbling Harry onto his back with a whoosh of expelled air.

Sprawled down Harry's body the tiger nuzzled close and the rumble continued, a purr rather than a growl.

Anyone else feeling all of that heat and weight pressing them into the ground might have panicked at the feeling of being kept close whether they wanted to be or not. Harry reveled in the unknown sensation and wound himself as completely as he could manage around the huge body, with his face buried along with his fingers into the fur.

"You're cuddly all the way through, huh?"

Harry wrenched from his feelings of safety attempted a desperate lunge away from the ground glass voice but the weight of the tiger meant he wasn't able to move an inch.

Here was John's subconscious showing up right on time, Harry kicked himself for that moment of trust that the tiger had engendered in him. Here was the moment of truth when all of John's subconscious mutterings came to life and tore him to pieces.

The man crouched next to Harry in tattered jeans and bare feet and chest. A cigarette dangled from John's mouth clenched tightly between his big bad wolf teeth, and puffed on it occasionally.

His hair was the black that it must have been before the stress of his job had changed Marcone's hair to the salt and pepper I had always seen him with. Marcone may have been in his early thirties but nobody had ever said that ruling a city the size of Chicago was easy.

Green eyes, lighter then Harry was used to watched Harry cringe into the tiger with a hint of enjoyment in his eyes.

"Johnny boy keeps me locked down pretty tight these days. Always going on about preparation and keeping ten steps ahead of the competition, makes me we want to kill something sometimes. Ruling the place has its benefits but we've had to give up a lot to do it. Gave up smoking. Gave up back alley beat downs. Some days I get so sick of Johnny being all stick up his ass business man I could just puke."

John's subconscious smiled.

"And then along comes you."

Harry pushed ineffectually at the tiger's immovable mass and then turned to snarl at John's subconscious as he slunk closer to him.

People's subconscious' were filled with all of the nasty stuff, stuff that they really wanted to do but couldn't because of the rules of the society that they lived in. John was a man of deep thought but Harry had no doubt that his subconscious didn't get a lot of free rein and that meant that he was probably going to milk this moment for everything that he could.

The hand that stroked down Harry's cheek was rougher than he was used to. Calluses that John had lost since he had gone from the streets to the boardroom were still present in his subconscious.

Harry froze, unsure if he could physically hurt John's subconscious without hurting any other part of John's brain as well as unsure of whether he even wanted to hurt him at all.

This was proof at least that all parts of John wanted to keep Harry around.

"Our first time was so sweet Harry, you all trembly and unsure underneath me. God I wanted to fuck you. Open up that ass and make you scream. But goody goody thought it'd be too much for you. Thought you needed to be coaxed. But you felt so good he had to fight me harder than usual. But now you're here, and the rest of me isn't so I guess I get my wish after all."

Harry gave up struggling against the tiger and instead turned his head and snapped viciously catching John's thumb in his mouth and biting down as hard as he could.

On thin air.

John puffed out of existence and reappeared even closer than before in the blink of an eye.

"I wouldn't do that again pretty one. This here is my turf, I can do whatever I want on it and you sweet boy are just a poor innocent bystander that has no effect on the outcome."

The tiger batted John's subconscious with a massive paw hard enough to knock his head sideways.

"All right. All right. You know I don't want to hurt him. Much."

John's subconscious leaned in and kissed Harry, and with the pressure of the tiger still keeping him pinned to the ground there was no where for him to escape to.

His lips pursed tightly shut, Harry let himself go limp as he tried to separate himself from the moment if he couldn't fight and win he'd see if John liked having a living doll to play with instead.

John leaned back slightly, hot breathe, which smelled of smoke and alcohol, puffing over his lips in harsh pants.

"Oh come on Dresden. I've been wanting to get into you since the moment I saw you burn that house down. I wanted to fight with you and not always win. Wanted to curl up around you like you was doing with pussycat and making sure that you stayed with me until the day we keeled over. Just cause I want to be a little rough with you don't make me some rapist. Just means I want you and I don't want to be a goddamn gentleman about it."

John lowered his head again and this time when his lips impacted Harry's he got the response that he was hoping for. Harry's mouth opened underneath him but this was no surrender; John had to fight for every inch that he gained into Harry's mouth. Sometimes losing ground when he had to retreat from snapping teeth. Sometimes gaining it when Harry's mouth went lax on a moan.

They fought each other until the tiger's body had been replaced by John's subconscious and this time instead of gentle rocking motions John ground down hard. Slamming their pelvises together and making Harry shriek when he grabbed a mouthful of neck and bit down as hard as he could.

Harry could feel John's teeth click together underneath his skin and although he knew that this was all in his (John's?) mind he could also feel the heat of blood that trickled down his neck and chest.

When John finally released his teeth he lapped briefly at the blood swallowing it with apparent relish before leaning up into Harry' s ear and whispering hoarsely.

"Next time someone looks inside of you, they're going to see that on your subconscious; and they're going to know that you're somebody's."

Harry came hard and at the same time he came back into his own body with an almighty shiver of reaction and pleasure.

John's eyes looked at him, full of wonder at whatever he had seen inside of his lover. But instead of questioning him, all John did was lean in and place a tremulous kiss on Harry's chest right where the racing heart could be felt.

Harry was happy that for their first time John had managed to hold himself back enough to make it a sweeter experience than Harry had ever had before. But if his taste of the John underneath the veneer was anything to go by he would also get to fight for his pleasure, which made it all the sweeter.

He got the best of both worlds really.

Harry touched a gentle hand to his own neck feeling a fleeting moment of tenderness.


End file.
